Alone
by Seerwood
Summary: Set just after the boom that was Terminus, 5:01. Caryl.
1. Alone

**Disclaimer-I do not own The Walking Dead.**

_a/n: I have to confess my nervousness submitting this. I have not written any fan fiction for a number of years, but this one kept me restless until I just had to start to write. It wasn't the voice that has been whispering in my ear the last few weeks, begging to be written, but I thought I would start with this one, try to test the waters so to speak, and hope my writing measures up. I only hope that I have done some small justice here._

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Alone

Crisp leaves crunching underfoot. The smell of ozone in the air. The trickle of sweat beading it's way down fevered skin. The sound of a deafening heartbeat, pounding. The taste of her own tears, salt and grief united. And always, the smell of blood, congealed, rotting, despising and taunting her to her core.

She felt all this and more.

The crossbow she bore on her back weighted her down, as if it spoke of a multitude of crimes. As if to say how many times she had failed. She thought her heart would shatter, her only beacon of hope...gone, just like the rest of them, withered leaves of an empty life.

She ran her hand through thick grime coated hair, and suppressed a laugh. Perhaps, all those seemingly long years before, he had been right. She was nothing.

She had tried to save them, to save them all, even though deep in her heart she thought that redemption was just a notion that had high tailed it's ass back to hell, rather than offer her any small comfort.

Their names were a litany that seared itself on the dark recess of her heart. Ed. Sophia. Karen. David. Mika. Lizzie...so many.

She choked back a sob. It felt that no matter what she did, she couldn't seem to do the right thing. After she had...lost Ed...lost Sophia, she had tried so hard, even though she felt like she was dying inside. Living, but not breathing, just going through the motions...The moment that barn door had swung open, and her baby, _Sophia_ had stumbled out on shuffling undead feet, she had wanted to die. To give in, become one of them, if anything to share that common ground with her undead daughter, but _he_ had stopped her, held her back, and she had thought her heart had shattered into a million pieces.

But, humanity was stronger than that. Time numbed the distance between her old life, and her new one.

A twig snapped, and she shouldered the rifle in her hands, her eyes narrowing, sweat trickling an unwelcome bead down her brow. She shook her head, and turning sharply she focused, letting the slight sigh of relief whistle softly through her teeth. It was nothing, just a squirrel making its way hurriedly through the undergrowth. She felt a pang as she thought of _him_, how he would have shot a bolt through that poor animals unfortunate hide, marking it as a small yet important part of their diet. Lunch.

At that moment, she allowed herself one small grace. His name. _Daryl_.

She fervently hoped, that if anyone could forgive her, it would be _him_. Her heart constricted tightly in her chest, but she couldn't allow the tears to fall from her eyes. No, not now, not when she had lost herself.

Sighing, she thought that maybe...just maybe Rick was right after all. She was becoming something that was so far removed from her old life, that she barely recognised herself. She had deserved exile, banishment.

Redemption sat in an old shack, along with the gentle man whom she had wronged so badly, yet had forgiven her. At least, she had saved one. Judith.

But, at what cost? At the cost of Mika, Lizzie? Had she done what she had done, to save the baby, to curry favour with the very man that had exiled her?

Yet even as she thought this, her heart hardened, rebelled at the thought, Lizzie...had not been right. She had never been completely in the picture, it was like she had always been in soft focus...she had never been truly there, not like little Mika, whom had shone like a bright fragile star. She had had to kill one to save another, how could a wrong make a right? But, after losing Sophia, she would fight hell on earth to save another, she was a mother, first and foremost, and despite losing her own precious girl, she would never dream of fighting against the maternal instinct that coursed through herself.

Voices, muffled reached her through the thick foliage, and she clamped her hands tightly to the gun in her hands, bowing her head as she slunk back into the undergrowth. She scanned to her left, to her right, listening intently. She poised, weapon ready as the sounds approached her, swallowing thickly. Idly she thought back to when she had last had a drink, and her throat rebelled at her, threatening to bring back memories of acrid smoke, burning flesh...she shook her head, fighting back the nausea of what she had done. Again.

Peeking through the bushes, she felt her heart still in her chest. Then it surged into life, and above the deafening boom of her heartbeat, she saw him.

He looked...battered, beat down, and she could not stop her hands from shaking, her feet from inching forwards as they took her unbidden towards him. He stood there with others, some she did not recognise, some she knew as family. Fresh tears coursed down her cheeks as she stood before them. She did not look at the others, could not take her eyes from him.

He didn't look at her. His head was bent down, his hair hanging limply in his face. He looked lost without his crossbow, she had borne the weight of it, just simply for him, because he was her only beacon in this dark and decaying world.

And then suddenly, when she thought that she had lost this right, blue eyes slowly looked to hers, blinking widely in surprise. Then he was near her, his footfall crunching rapidly through the undergrowth, all care and stealth forgotten as he shortened the distance between them.

Then he was there, and she fought against the sob that rose in her throat as his arms engulfed her, and she thought the life was being squeezed out from her. His face was pressed to her neck, and she felt the hot tears against her skin as he nuzzled her. Her arms banded around him, her fingertips trailing against the rough outline of wings on his vest, and she bent her head to his, her lips brushing against his ear as she rested her cheek next to his. At that moment, she thought her heart would burst.

The sweet smell of leather, sweat and tobacco, the feel of his arms wrapped around her, the touch of his hair against her cheek, gave her some small hope, that she could come home.

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	2. Together

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.**

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Together

Daryl couldn't believe how such a God awful shit-kicking day could get any worse. And it had gotten worse, so much more than he could have thought possible. He doubted he would ever forget that moment, one minute hanging over that stinking blood filled trough, trepidation filling them as they unwillingly waited to die. He couldn't forget the frantic fear in the young Korean's eyes, the slight crazed glaze to Ricks. For Daryl, that moment in time would be forever a blur of red and white. Then that God damned blast from nowhere that had reverberated, smacking plaster and dust from the ceilings, coating their head and shoulders ashen white. ...and In that second he had hoped, prayed even that there was a chance, however small, that they could get out of this, however absurd it seemed.

But they had.

And now he was standing there, in front of _her_, that one split second seemingly stretching to eternity, before his feet found him, and then he was rushing towards her, boots kicking up leaves and dirt, as he propelled himself into the arms of the small woman stood almost shyly in front of him, and the group.

Daryl didn't give them one single thought as he wrapped his arms around her, his heart hammering almost painfully in his chest. He ignored the sudden rush of tears as he pressed his face to her neck, inhaling the faint unique scent of her mingled with dried blood and mud, he thought he had never smelled anything more beautiful. Her arms wound around him, he felt her hands on his back, pressing him nearer and he choked back a sob, burrowing his face to hers, and in that moment, he really believed he could die from happiness and relief.

He stood back from her, but the small distance ached his heart too soon ,so he stepped forward, pressing his forehead to her shoulder. Her hands cupped his face, pulling his head gently up, her blue eyes shimmering with tears,"I'm here," she murmured and he couldn't answer through the weight of the sob lodged in his throat. He had missed her so much.

The sound of someone coughing, announced the rest of the groups presence and he was suddenly painfully aware of the others stood behind him. His cheeks flushed red, and he gave her a small wry smile, before standing back again.

He watched as Rick moved past him, pausing to give him a brief nod, before turning to Carol. Rick stood there with his head downcast, before looking up at her, saying quietly, "Did you do this?" Daryl nervously bit at a thumb nail, his eyes never leaving Carol and Rick.

Carol nodded, and Daryl thought his heart would burst from sheer pride. He remembered the timid woman from what seemed so long ago, of every adversity that she had had to face and overcome and he marvelled at the strength of her willpower, of who she was now.

He saw Carol embrace Rick, heard him quietly say "Thank you," and a soft sigh of relief escaped him, perhaps now Rick would appreciate_exactly _what she had done for them, what she had _always _done. It didn't matter none to him what had happened at the prison. Despite what Rick had told him. He knew that she wouldn't have killed Karen and David, if there hadn't had been a damn good reason. Rick was just too stubborn and pig headed for his own good to realise. At least he thought, Rick had the sense and decency to be gracious after she had just saved their collective butts.

Carol glanced at them, her eyes lingering on Daryl, before turning back to Rick. "You have to come with me."

They followed her for some distance, and Daryl took the opportunity to walk beside her. She was quiet, unusually so. He wanted to tell her how much he had missed her, how he thought that Rick had been wrong to make her leave the prison. Hell, he wanted to tell her that she wasn't alone, just how much he cared about her, but as he sneaked a side long glance at her, the words caught in his throat. She looked wan, tired, dark puffy circles under her eyes. His heart constricted tightly in his chest. He wanted to hold her in his arms again, to feel her pressed up against himself. He smiled wryly, it wasn't so long ago that he'd flinch if she so much as put her hand on his shoulder. Now he wanted to trail his fingertips down her cheek, find out for himself finally, just how soft her skin...he swallowed thickly, feeling alarmed at the sudden turn of his thoughts.

"Something wrong?" she asked him, slowing her pace and looking at him in concern.

"S' nothing," he mumbled, "Just missed you is all." She smiled at that, but the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. He frowned at her, then tentatively said, "Is good to have you back."

"I'm glad to be back. I missed you too, Daryl," she said softly, reaching out to capture his wrist in her hand. He flinched at the touch, trying to pull back from her and he cursed inwardly. He glanced at her, hoping she didn't notice his unbidden reaction. He couldn't tell, her eyes were downcast.

They walked a few more minutes in silence, but Daryl couldn't help but fidget. He hoisted his crossbow up his back, fiddling with the straps, positioning the 'bow more firmly. His eyes narrowed, and he bit the inside of his lip, an eyebrow quirking at her direction. Damn that the woman was quiet. There'd been times at the prison when he had wanted her to shut the hell up, but she wouldn't, just kept on yammering in his ear every time she saw him. He started to feel annoyed with her silence, she just kept on walking, her lips pursed in an expression that he remembered of old, usually when the shit had hit the fan.

He sighed, worrying at his thumbnail. "So," he mumbled gruffly, "Where did ya go?" He licked his lips briefly, throat dry as he willed her to answer.

There was along pause before she answered, and Daryl feared she would remain mute. "When Rick banished me?" Carol laughed sadly.

He couldn't help but growl under his breath at the mention of that.

She quirked an eyebrow at him, then stared off into the distance. "Nowhere really. I had a car, then that died, so I travelled by foot. Just moved around, place to place. You know how it is."

He knew. It had been the same for him, since he'd lost Beth. Running and running, trying to find her, trying to track that stupid car as it had sped off into the night with her. He shook his head, was his own stupid assed fault. She had been in his care, and he'd lost her, just like that. Careless ass-hole, he angrily told himself, not for the first time.

Carol glanced at him, seeing the misery contort on his face. "We've all been through a lot," she said gently, "I can only imagine what happened at the prison. I saw the smoke," she answered to his questioning look.

"Was rough, yeah," Daryl agreed. "Was on my own, for a while. Met up with a bunch of mean assholes. Not long after I found Rick, Michonne and the kid." He didn't want to tell her what had happened when he had caught up with Rick, while in the company of Joe...fuck...he didn't even want to say that he'd escaped with Beth, and lost her. He'd only told Rick that she was gone...had said nothing more, and Rick hadn't questioned him at the time, just given him a sympathetic look that Daryl didn't feel he deserved. He felt enough of a chickenshit as it was.

"Saw the sign for Terminus. Sanctuary, we thought, ya know? Terminus was a fuckin' lie. 'M glad you wasn't there for that."

Carol sighed sadly, "Perhaps...maybe if I had been there, at the prison..."

"Not your fault. Don't think that for one damn minute. Ya wasn't there. Just as well, I reckon."

Soon they stopped their long trek, and Daryl swiped at the sweat that dripped down his brow with the back of a grime encrusted hand, smearing dark smudges across his forehead. He could hear laboured breathing from behind him. He smirked as he glanced back at the mullet guy, Eugene. Obviously wasn't cut out for this. Soft headed pussy, Daryl thought, if it hadn't had been for the towering red head Abraham, standing protectively behind him, he would have been a walker a long time ago.

They stood in front of an old wooden shack. Several walkers littered the ground. Daryl noted with amusement, one was impaled on a sharpened pole driven into the ground. it's hand twitched and flapped across the hard dirt, fingers feebly drumming a tattoo. He wondered who had put them down, and raised an eyebrow as the door opened and a burly figure stepped hesitantly down the few tattered steps, clutching a baby tightly to his chest.

Tyreese.

Daryl looked across to where carol was stood, and was transfixed by the momentarily serene expression that flashed across her face. Then it was gone, and she was stepping aside as Rick came rushing forth, his breath sobbing as he raced to Tyreese, his hands out, prying the baby from the big man's grip. Carl raced across to his sister, his voice excitedly repeating his sisters name, over and over again. Lil Ass Kicker made it too, Daryl smiled, then looked away sharply, biting at his lower lip as a surge of emotions swept through him as he watched Rick sink to his knees, cradling the baby, sobs wracking his body. It felt intrusive to watch this, and with a pang, Daryl knew that if he could have, he would have gone back in time, and given his right arm for this scene to have been replayed, only this time, it being Carol and Sophia. Happy endings don't belong in a fucked up world, he thought sourly.

He sneaked a glance across to where Carol stood with Michonne. The warrior was positively beaming, and Daryl guessed that she was itching to get across to where Rick and Carl stood, but her sense of duty held her in place. Unlike him, he thought, as he made his way across towards the two women.

"Hey," he said, and he was rewarded with a warm flash of blue eyes. Carol smiled at him. "it's a happy scene," she said wistfully.

"You a'right?"

"I'm better for this," she gestured towards Rick.

Daryl frowned, and Michonne seeing the expression on his face, said brightly "I am going to have a nice long cuddle with that adorable baby!" and grinning at them both, she set out after Rick, who seeing her approach, turned and beamed at Michonne.

Carol laughed suddenly and under her breath said to him, "And please don't tell me something isn't happening with our lovely samurai and the lonesome sheriff!"

Daryl spluttered, "Huh? Michonne _and _Rick?"

She rolled her eyes at him, stifling a laugh with her hand. "Of course, Michonne and Rick. You don't pay too much attention do you?"

Daryl just shook his head and smirked. Woman was crazy.

...


End file.
